


Lessons of Blood and Bone, Electricity and Steel

by prairiecrow



Series: Lessons in Humanity [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: A.I. to Human, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dominance, Fairy Tales, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Protectiveness, watching while sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony doesn't trust people. JARVIS, fortunately, is definitely not a person, no matter what kind of body he's wearing -- no, JARVIS is both *other*, and *more*.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set between IM1 and IM2.

If life had taught Tony one thing over the past thirty-five years, it was this: that humans were one fucked-up collection of hyperevolved pretentious apes. Fathers didn't love you when they were supposed to, being the brightest kid in the room didn't automatically make you the most popular, and the person that you'd grown up assuming (in spite of the sum total of your other experiences) would always be on your side was fully capable of turning around and trying to crush the life out of you using a power suit whose design he'd stolen from you in the first place. 

No, given a lifetime of painful experiences Tony had every right to come to the conclusion that other people were necessary to keep his world running, and maybe as occasional convenient holes to fuck, but other than that? Absolutely useless, and keep the hell away from him, thank you very much. (Pepper Potts was something of an exception to that rule. He still hadn't figured out how. But she hadn't overtly screwed him over yet, so he was keeping her around on a wait-and-see basis. Had been for the last twelve years, and so far things hadn't gone completely pear-shaped, right? Right. So. She could stay. In his more sentimental moments he dared to dream that maybe it would be forever, but big boys didn't buy into fairytales.) 

Funny thing, fairytales — some of them talked about crazy shit like dragons turning into princesses and women turning into swans, but he was pretty sure that none of them had ever told a story quite like this: him waking up abruptly in the middle of the night to the sudden awareness that someone was standing at the threshold of his bedroom, pale as a willow poised on the verge of shivering in indigo pajamas and a tightly belted burgundy dressing gown, gazing at him with unblinking eyes the colour of aquamarine. 

He rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on both elbows, blinking at his unexpected visitor, then scowling. "JARVIS?" 

"Yes, Sir." His voice was as gorgeous and as cultured as ever: being trapped in a single small body, limited to a merely mortal frame, had diminished its omnipresence but not its elegance. "I'm afraid so. However, let me assure you that I had no intention of waking you." 

Tony sat up, letting the sheet fall unheeded around his hips and grimacing slightly as the room's cool air struck his naked chest, then scrubbed a hand across his face before mumbling: "S'okay." Which, surprisingly, it was. Normally being roused by an unexpected other body in his personal space would have made him as annoyed as fuck, but JARVIS had been in his personal space from the day JARVIS had been created. Hell, that was JARVIS's _function_. Which now it kind of wasn't. But whatever. "What's'matter? Can't sleep?" 

JARVIS — no, merely Jarvis now — hesitated before replying: for a split second, Tony thought he was going to simply turn and vanish back into the shadows of the house, like a cat caught doing something it shouldn't have. "Indeed, Sir. Something has come up, quite literally. I believe —" Another hesitation, and he blinked: it was the transition between cool appraisal and a brief depth of poignant confusion that slid past Tony's elaborate defences and into his chest like a blade, and that was _totally not fair._ "I should go. My apologies. Good night." 

He started to turn away. Tony's hand, swiftly raised, stopped him in his tracks like a mount well-trained to its rider's hand. "Whoa, wait a second! What do you mean, 'something's come up'? A problem with the house?" Curiosity started a swift slide toward dread. "An issue in the lab?" Cut off as he currently was from the mansion's systems, the A.I. could no longer deal with any malfunctions that might arise in the laboratory space, which Heaven only knew was full of enough volatile components to send this part of Malibu crashing into the ocean if they all went nuclear at once. 

But Jarvis merely shook his blond head, one neat economical gesture. "Nothing of the sort, I assure you. Really, it's — nothing of consequence." He tried to leave again, but a more impatient flick of Tony's fingers brought him up short and held him in place while Tony slipped out from between the sheets and padded across the carpet in his loose-fitting pajama bottoms and bare feet to find out just what the fuck was going on here. "Sir, I really should be —" 

"That's enough, Jarvis." He infused the words with his best command inflection and had the satisfaction of seeing the — and what _was_ this, exactly? This was a creature of flesh and blood, but it wasn't another person, it was _JARVIS_ , and as much as Tony knew he should be putting a few hundred miles of distance between them because other people were pure trouble — he just couldn't. He'd made JARVIS, and he wasn't going to abandon him because now he perspired and breathed and had a pulse — especially when it wasn't JARVIS's fault in the first place. Other human beings didn't deserve his loyalty, fuck 'em, but JARVIS and the bots… they'd paid for their admission just by virtue of being his own, built with his sweat and tears, children of his hands and of his mind. 

Tony even went so far as to reach out and take hold of that angular left elbow, to hold Jarvis in place just in case that sharper expression in his eyes meant that he was considering making a break for it. "Now, you're going to tell me what's going on here _right now_ , or so help me God I'll tie you to a chair and make you watch episodes of Jerry Springer until you sing like a canary." 

Those pale eyes widened at the physical contact, and even in the dimness Tony could see the flush that suddenly warmed each high cheekbone. Slight parting of the lips, definite dilation of the pupils — he recognized all the signals, and when he slid his right hand down the front of that old-fashioned quilted dressing gown to palm the front of Jarvis's pelvis his suspicions were amply confirmed. 

"So," he smirked, pressing a little harder just to feel the shock of it run through that slim frame, "you weren't kidding about 'something coming up'. Feels like a pretty big issue to me." 

"Sir." He wouldn't look at Tony. But he wasn't pulling away either. "Sir, please I — I didn't intend —" 

"I'll bet you didn't." A coil of new heat was curling in his lower belly like a serpent, unfurling, then tightening around the root of his own cock. Surprising, considering guys did absolutely nothing for him, but this wasn't a guy at all — not really. "You just thought you'd come in here and watch me sleep, for… what? To give yourself some material to jerk off to?" 

" _Sir._ " He sounded scandalized, appalled, and utterly mortified, but underneath it all… Tony recognized that tone of voice as well. "I —" But he couldn't lie, not to his maker, Tony knew that as surely as he knew the sun was going to come up tomorrow, and the gaze Jarvis turned on him now was both unflinching and deeply regretful. "I'm sorry, Sir," he murmured, and looked down and to his left: definitely _not_ at what Tony's right hand was doing, starting to rub slowly up and down. 

"Don't be." He heard the throaty note in his own voice as he stepped even closer, because fuck it — "You came to the right place." He ran his left hand up this mortal body's tense arm and shoulder to the nape of its slender neck, then around the delicately sculpted jaw, coaxing Jarvis's face back around to look him in the eyes. "It's not really a surprise, is it?" he said as gently as he could. "I made you, after all. You belong to me, right?" 

And Jarvis's tender whisper, " _Yes,_ " carried such a rush of electric heat, such cool perfect certainty, that Tony's next words came to him as easily as the drumbeat of an undamaged heart. 

"That's right." And it was. Oh God, it so _totally_ was. "C'mere, baby," as he stepped closer to taste the mouth that was being offered without hesitation, that was and always had been _his_ , "and let Daddy teach you everything you need to know…" 

Being human was a matter of flesh and bone, tears and blood — but being organic wasn't enough to make someone human. Not even close. 

And for that mercy, Tony was at this moment profoundly grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

_Unique_ was, in Tony's not-so-humble opinion, a word overused to the point of meaninglessness — objects which were not uncommon, not merely rare, but truly one-of-a-kind were so few and far between that most human beings shouldn't have the occasion to discuss the concept in their lifetimes. In fact, if he were suddenly made King of the World one of his first edicts would be to restrict the word's use to those who actually dealt with the irreplaceable: artists and craftsmen, himself the foremost in their ranks. After all, he hadn't just built the bots, each of them a spinny little treasure in itself: he'd created JARVIS, who outpaced the Three Little Pigs by ten or twenty orders of magnitude. 

The keyboards in Tony's lab bore symbols that nobody else on Earth but he and JARVIS would recognize: their own private shorthand, macros custom crafted to convey, in various combinations, concepts that would take too long to elucidate using the spoken or the typed word. That was how keenly attuned they were to each other — they shared a complex language limited to two minds on the entire planet, because only JARVIS was capable of keeping up with Tony Stark once he really left the intellectual launch pad. That's what he'd made JARVIS for, after all: to serve as both butler and research assistant, functions which JARVIS had always fulfilled flawlessly within his designed parameters, and sometimes in ways that broke those parameters wide open. Yes, it was fair to say that Tony had been proud of his A.I. quite a few times in its relatively brief existence — and that he was proud of it now, when he drew back enough to look up into the lucid eyes of a purely human body and saw a relentless curiosity there that narrowly outweighed the caution he'd also built into the system. 

And something more than intellectual interest: something much hotter, and far more rooted in the new paradigm of his flesh. Tony grinned with self-satisfaction, because it was clear to him now that Jarvis's hesitancy hadn't come from fear of the sensations themselves, at least not primarily — it had stemmed from concern that his creator would react adversely to his reason for coming here in the dead of night, and Tony's approval was all he'd needed to accept what was happening to him. In other words, everything was functioning exactly as it should, and when Tony stepped away and issued a single word command — "Strip." — Jarvis obeyed without a trace of hesitation. 

It took Tony less than two seconds to shimmy out of his pajama bottoms and let them fall carelessly to the floor, so he stretched out on the bed, propped up on his left elbow, to watch his embodied A.I. undress much more neatly and methodically, laying each element of clothing aside on the nearest chair, then picking up Tony's pants and folding them precisely on the top of the small pile. Something about that fastidiousness made Tony's half-erect cock stir and swell even harder, so when Jarvis straightened and turned to him again he held out his right hand impatiently, beckoning with a twitch of his fingers.  

Jarvis came to him with unselfconscious grace in his nudity, ridiculously slender, and angular, and English — and blond, even the curls that nested the root of his cut erection only a shade more golden than the close-cropped hair on his head. Not to mention clean-shaven: who the fuck didn't have so much as a hint of stubble at two in the morning? Running his thumb back over the smoothness of Jarvis's jawline as the newly minted body reclined facing him on its right side, Tony came to the only logical conclusion: that he was freshly shaven especially for his maker. The thought warmed and chilled in equal measure. 

"Let me guess," he mused, brushing light fingertips over Jarvis's upper lip and finding it just as frictionless, "you showered too, right?" 

A blink in response, mildly puzzled. "Of course, Sir. I wouldn't dream of entering your presence in any state short of immaculate." 

"That probably shouldn't be so sexy," Tony noted, a slow smirk spreading across his face, "but it _totally_ is." He ran his hand down Jarvis's slim throat to his collarbone, traced the hollow above it with a firm touch, cupped the narrowly muscled round of his left shoulder. He'd seen this body naked before, of course, when it had appeared fully formed and immensely surprised in the middle of his lab five days ago, but the hard-on it was currently sporting was a real game changer. Also worth noting: Tony's own cock was sitting up and taking full notice now that less than six inches of cool dark air separated them. "Wow. So how long has _this_ been going on?" 

One eyebrow elevated a fraction of an inch. "This specific episode of sexual excitation, my difficulty sleeping, or my physical arousal in response to you as a global phenomenon?" 

Which made Tony chuckle wry. "All of the above, my faithful minion." 

"Approximately twenty-two minutes, for the past four nights, and from the moment you first approached me in the lab," Jarvis responded, surprisingly cooly for someone sporting that much wood. Which definitely would _not_ fly, so Tony decided to take matters into his own hand again: lightly gliding over now-bare skin, then firmly gripping. The result — a sharp intake of breath, widening eyes and a shiver, followed by half-closed lids and an appealing lean inward — was intensely gratifying, and since Tony had always appreciated the value of rewards-based teaching strategies he proceeded to issue immediate positive feedback using a non-verbal channel.  

If the sigh that provoked was any indication, Jarvis wasn't having any problem getting the gist of what was being communicated. His mouth was warm and pliant, opening easily for the first shallow stroke of Tony's tongue: he tasted of mint, so the teeth had also been freshly brushed, but did not smell of aftershave — a deliberate omission, perhaps, to avoid giving notice of his presence via his scent? It was the sort of thing JARVIS would have taken into account, and thus far Tony had seen no sign that this version was any less sharp, only more limited in his physical scope. Although, Tony had to admit as he began to slowly pump and drank in a soft gasped exhalation, maybe being limited this way wasn't entirely a _bad_ thing. Maybe… 

… fuck it, if he'd wanted second thoughts he wouldn't have kissed Jarvis in the first place. Second thoughts were for pussies and cowards, neither of which Tony had ever claimed to be even on his worst days — he was a fucking _engineer_ , exploring parameters was his job, and furthermore he was a _superhero_ , so taking risks? Ditto. And JARVIS was something he'd built, so if things had changed this drastically it was his duty to find out how far things had gone. 

Judging by the heat currently filling his right hand and the things Jarvis's tongue was trying to do? Pretty damned far, and nowhere near far enough. The body Tony touched was practically vibrating with conflicted tension, its free hand hesitantly rising to his face, his throat, his shoulder — following approximately the track Tony had traced over it only seconds earlier, and whispering between kisses: "Sir — I — I don't know — how you want me to —?" 

Of course he didn't: he'd never touched anyone else in his entire existence, unless you counted the precise sequence of suiting his maker up and stripping him down as Iron Man. Tony let go of the erection and pulled his tongue out of that hungry mouth, leaning away, and met the startled questioning look when those darkened eyes flew open with a quirk of a smile. "You don't have to do anything — just turn around." 

The finely drawn blond eyebrows tightened in a frown. "I'm afraid I don't —" 

"Turn around, Jarvis." He kept his hands to himself and nodded decisively, meeting the A.I.'s perplexed gaze with a look of unblinking command. "Facing the windows. Go on." 

Jarvis opened his mouth a little wider, but whatever he'd been about to say — a question, an observation, snarky insubordination — never saw the light of day, or the darkest night for that matter. Instead he seemed to suddenly notice that Tony was not only also naked, but sporting a rampant erection of his own. His gaze slid south, his mouth closed sharply, and he simply stared, his fingertips trembling against Tony's chest. Tony gave him a count of two to snap out of his fascinated daze, then sighed and scowled when he didn't. "Come on, you're seen it hundreds of times before." 

"Two thousand, eight hundred and forty-seven, to be precise," Jarvis corrected automatically, but he sounded tremendously distracted and he was still staring. His fingers quivered again, then clenched in a way that was almost a flinch, his sharply contoured face both apologetic and yearning. "I — I think I'd like to —?" 

A coil of weirdness squirmed in Tony's gut, but — no, it really wasn't that strange, JARVIS had seen his cock practically every single day for the past eight years, but he'd also never been in a position to touch it before, and Tony had certainly never been in a position where he _wanted_ it to be touched, not like this. Not _by_ this, so because he wasn't a coward he sighed again and reached up to take Jarvis's hand, pausing to fix him with an even more stern glare. "You've got five seconds, and then I want you to do exactly what you're told. Understood" 

"Of course, Sir." A nod restrained but undeniably eager, so he guided Jarvis's hand down between their bellies, and wow… five seconds wasn't anywhere near enough, not with a touch so tentative (a _male_ touch, oh _fuck_ ) growing so quickly confident, the trail of fingertips circling the corona and the stroke of a palm over the head a perfect replication of what he'd liked best in the past when touched by practically nameless women — oh shit, JARVIS had been taking notes, of course he had, JARVIS had seen _everything_. And the way he was parting his lips while he gazed at Tony twitching in his hand, and _licking_ those lips as if the clear salty drop rising into the slit was the most delicious thing he'd ever seen… 

 _Hell yes._ Tony locked his right hand onto that slim forearm and lunged forward to lick into his mouth again, drawing his face upward again with the magnetism of their lips, hot and compelling — melting together too easily. The hunger pulling him in was both human and something other, something _more_ , but Tony had to be methodical about this — no dissolving into random tonguing and kissing and sucking, no frantic groping, and definitely no fucking — so he only allowed himself three seconds of serious self-indulgence before pulling away again. Their lips parted wetly and Jarvis, now panting, was staring at him as if he was a religious icon miraculously come to life, and damned if that look of amazed adoration didn't make Tony want to plunge right back in again and show him what he was really missing, comprehensive reference library of his maker's sexual exploits notwithstanding. 

Bad idea. _Really_ bad idea. JARVIS in a human brain was still an unknown quantity: too much input too fast could drive him straight into a behavioural freeze that Tony might prove unable to unlock. He'd decided to risk having sex with his highly evolved pet A.I. (if you could call feeling a hard-on and being moved with the force of pure instinct 'deciding'), but that didn't meant he was going to throw all caution to the winds. Behind that resolution lay a whole intellectual and emotional complex of motivations, some of which ("He's a unique construct that I might never be able to replicate to my satisfaction") bore thinking about more than others ("He's JARVIS, I made him, he's part of me, he's _mine_ "), but all told the swelling emotion that pressed his heart against the arc reactor housing was somewhat more sweet than it was bitter. 

He gently pulled Jarvis's hand away from his cock, and refused to let himself be surprised when he raised it again to kiss the palm. "Okay, baby, there'll be more playtime later. Right now I need you to follow orders." 

Jarvis surprised him with a slight smile both crooked and shamelessly affectionate, and by drawing Tony's hand to his lips to press a light swift kiss to his master's fingers in turn. "I'll hold you to that, shall I?" he murmured, his gaze too bright, and when he turned away as ordered Tony found himself already thirsting for those pale eyes, their radiant intensity focussed only on him. 

Instead he moved in, wrapping his left arm lightly around Jarvis's waist and barely resisting the urge to press against him fully, length to length. Soon. First he had to prime the system, firing things up in sequence — which, if he did his job right, shouldn't take long at all. 

If there was one thing Tony prided himself on, it was his ability to approach and solve complex problems at a moment's notice. Taking the virginity of his own A.I.? Not even close to the strangest challenge he'd ever faced, not by a long shot.   


	3. Chapter 3

It was, however, pretty far up there — and he had to be careful, holding Jarvis steady and starting slow. Touches and kisses on the nape of his neck first, firm and unhurried, watching closely for any signs of distress, but the way the pale reflection in the window glass closed its eyes and shivered, as well as the clench of its long-fingered hands in the tangled bedclothes in front of it, conveyed no quality of dismay in its tension. So, onward: fingertips tracing over his shoulder and down his ribs — a jerk and a little cough of laughter, ticklish, Tony would have to remember that — over the shallow angle of his hip, around to cup the buttocks that Tony was deliberately not pressing his own cock against, and this time the shiver was also a sigh, accompanied by a luxurious stretch as Jarvis bent his right knee forward onto the mattress, opening himself up and _Oh baby, no, you do_ ** _not_** _want to do that right now_ , leading Tony's touch naturally down and inward to the soft warmth of his balls. The contact made Jarvis gasp, such a yearning sound that Tony couldn't resist encouraging it: more kisses on the angle of his neck, pushing his fingers deeper into the heat to cup and lightly squeeze, and the shift of Jarvis's weight against his left arm made it exquisitely clear that if that arm hadn't been there Jarvis would already be flat on his stomach, thighs spread, ready for anything Tony wanted to do to him.  

His cock throbbed so fiercely at the image, _Oh_ ** _fuck_** , that he couldn't stop himself from biting the shoulder in front of him — just once — out of sheer frustrated male exuberance, the moan Jarvis emitted making it perfectly clear that he could go on doing _that_ if he wanted to, oh my yes! But. Priorities, and a measured pace, so he reluctantly withdrew his hand from its warm haven and ran it slowly up and down each inner thigh in turn, enjoying the way they opened for him far too much for his own good. "That's it," he murmured, tightening his grip on Jarvis's waist just a little and fascinated by that slender prick's fitful twitching, practically begging him to wrap his hand around it, "good boy, that's perfect… see? Nothing to be afraid of." 

"I…" He didn't look frightened. He looked almost transcendent with wonder, as Tony petted the top of his right thigh before taking hold of it and gently pulling it back into alignment with the left, to give himself room to work. "I'm not, Sir. Only, it's all so very…" 

"New." Tony nodded, smiling thinly. It wouldn't be the first time he'd broken JARVIS's world wide open, knocking down the walls to let that crystal mind find new reaches to explore — although the last time he'd done something this paradigm-changing had to have been back in 2003, when he'd given JARVIS _carte blanche_ to access the Internet and any computer systems attached to it. He clearly remembered the delight of seeing his A.I. expand in ever-more-complex permutations as the cumulative data of modern human civilization was absorbed and incorporated, and with it the pride of a father watching his son master a new set of skills: not how to walk, but how to fly, the whole sky now his kingdom.  

This too was an opening, but to inner mysteries rather than outer reaches: its scope a single bed and the places where skin met skin, the explosion of sensation provoking a breathless exhalation when Tony's fingers enclosed him. "Easy, sweetheart… easy…" One careful pass up and down, pause, another pass. Pause. "There. How does that feel?" 

"Overload." Each syllable was a jolt of barely articulated amazement. "Like — overload." 

"I know, and overload has always been bad, but trust me — this time it isn't." Another careful stroke. Jarvis's eyes flew open to meet Tony's in the glass, almost pleading. "It's an inbuilt function, and it's _so fucking good_ , you won't believe it." He met that gaze squarely, but his hand was merciless and his voice a velvet command as he took up a steady rhythm: "Just lie back, and lie still, and let me. Nice and easy. Slow and gentle. Shhh, that's right…" 

"Sir." He buried his face in the pillow and trembled fiercely, once, before getting himself under control as commanded. The quaver remained only in his voice. "Oh, _Sir._ " 

"You haven't done this before." It certainly wasn't a question: if you looked up _virginal_ on Wikipedia, it would currently have Jarvis's picture attached. 

Eyes now closed, he shook his head, his face still half-hidden while he clutched the sheets with new intensity. "I've — experimented, a very little. But I didn't dare…" 

"Because it felt like an overload, and you're programmed to avoid those at all costs." Hesitation. A nod. Tony's heart performed a perfectly absurd little slow flip in his chest as he imagined Jarvis these past four nights, lying restlessly awake and touching himself with fleeting hands, afraid to follow the feeling, no matter how pleasurable… "It's okay, Jarvis. This time it's all right. You have my permission to let it happen. I'm right here, I've got you — I won't let anything bad happen to you." 

"Sir." A whispered acquiescence as his hips began to move slightly, to meet the strokes of Tony's fist, and oh _fuck_ if that wasn't five flavours of hot, all of them new and all of them perfect.  

"In fact," Tony continued, warming to his subject matter and deliberately quickening the stimulation, "I'm going to make the most incredibly wonderful things happen to you, starting with your first orgasm. Later I'll show you a lot of other ways it can go down, and I'll even teach you how to do it to yourself." 

"S—" His breath caught as Tony started to swipe his thumb firmly over the head at the top of each stroke. "You're too kind, Sir." 

"Don't compliment me on my altruism just yet. Some of those orgasms are going to happen with me buried balls-deep in your tight little ass." He tightened his grip and picked up the pace again, pressing his own pelvis forward, nestling his erection in the cleft of Jarvis's buttocks while his voice fell to a growl. "Or in your mouth. Would you like that, J? If I told you to suck me off, then bent you over and fucked you?" 

"Anything…" His hips were pumping in earnest now, chasing the stronger sensations provided by Tony's hand. "For you, anything. You know that." 

" _Good_ boy." He kissed the back of that pale neck, then licked a slow stripe up the nape, and God damn if Jarvis didn't actually _whimper_. "Not tonight, though. First things first. Let's get you over one plus one equals climax, then we'll talk about more advanced equations." He rocked his hips slowly, grinding his cock hard against the clenching curves of Jarvis's ass, staring at their paired reflections in the glass and leaning up a little to whisper in his ear: "That's it, baby. You're doing so good. So beautiful like this. Gonna make me come just watching you. _Fuck._ " He slipped his hand down off of Jarvis's cock, prompting a tiny cry of protest. "Shhh…" Cupped and rolled his tightened balls, reached further back to rub hard fingertips over his perineum. Jarvis gasped in shameless surprise, his thighs falling open even more as Tony continued to massage the delicious bundle of nerves. "There. It'll make things better, I promise." 

"Please." He tipped his head back, eyes closed tight, sounding like he was fighting to breathe. "Oh — oh, Mister Stark — _please —_ " 

The flip became a melting, and when he pressed another kiss to the angle of Jarvis's throat he was grinning. "When someone's fondling your genitals, it's perfectly acceptable to call them by their first name." Back up to the testicles, weighing them in his palm with coaxing pressure. "Come on, J — say it. 'Cause I'm not getting you off until you do." 

And most amazing of all — a shake of his head. "I can't. It's not — _proper_." 

Which made Tony laugh out loud in disbelief. "I'm jerking you off with my cock practically up your ass, and you're giving me sass about calling me _Mister?_ " The way Jarvis moaned deep in his throat turned Tony's grin predatory. "Oh yeah… you like it when I talk dirty, don't you?" He put his hand fully back into play and ground his own prick against Jarvis's buttocks, making him feel its stiff heat while he growled more lustily: "Maybe I _should_ stick it up your ass — I'll bet you'd call me all kinds of things then, most of them unprintable. I'll bet you'd surprise even yourself. But right now there's only one word I want to hear from you, and I'm not letting you come until you say it." 

Another moan as he pushed into Tony's hand repeatedly, hot and throbbing: "Sir — Sir, no — I —" 

"You can, and you will." A sudden sense of power seized him, certainty and intoxication. "Because you can't let yourself go, can you? Not until I give you permission." The whine that followed might have been confirmation or denial: all that mattered to Tony was that it communicated a depth of need that turned the dial up to 11 and then some. Almost panting himself, he pulled Jarvis back against him hard and forced his hand to slow dramatically, even though all he wanted to to was pump the straining body in his arms to completion because fuck, _JARVIS_ , and Jarvis was _his_. "Do it, baby," he breathed against the taut line of that arched throat, "come on, who's your —" 

"Tony," a groan utterly undone, "Tony, please, Tony, _Tony_ , oh —" 

"Fuck," Tony answered in kind, " _do_ it," and two swift strokes on the head later the hardness in his hand pulsed and grew wet-slick, Jarvis's exultant cry of amazement filling the darkened room in a way that outshone even the glow of the reactor that sustained Tony's heart. Jarvis had barely fallen silent when Tony let go of his softening cock and groped down between their bodies to stroke himself off using Jarvis's own cum as lube, spurting onto the small of his back and his buttocks with a shudder and a moan that was probably the most undignified sound he'd made in months, if not years. And when it was all over he just lay there with his left arm still loosely wrapped around the waist of his embodied A.I and his prick still in his hand., his eyes closed against the waves of pure astonishment that alternated with waves of _Oh hell, I'm going to sleep like the dead now because that was… oh_ ** _fuck_**. 

Some unknown span of time later, Jarvis stirred and lethargically started to sit up. "If you'll give me a moment, Sir, I'll fetch a damp cloth and —" 

"Uh-uh." He tightened his grip on that narrow waist, hauling him bodily back down onto the bed. "No no _no_. You're staying right here." 

"But, Sir — the mess —" 

Eyes still closed, Tony grinned against the back of his head. "I like things messy, at least between the sheets. C'mon, J, how is that a surprise in any way, shape, or form? Besides, look at you — you can barely keep your eyes open." 

"Which is —" A jaw-cracking yawn, leaving him sounding somewhat abashed. "Which is no excuse whatsoever for failing to tend to your needs." 

"My needs boil down to keeping you horizontal and warm, so quit fighting me." He held tight until he felt Jarvis relax, although he fancied the surrender had a grudging quality to it. Not that he actually, you know, gave a fuck at this point. "Better. Now — eyes closed. You don't need to…"  

And then his own eyes flew open wide as two pieces of the puzzle clicked neatly into place. _Coming into my room to watch me. Can't sleep._ "My God — that's part of it, isn't it? You couldn't sleep because you needed to protect me. No wonder you've been cat-napping at odd moments during the day —" Well, so much for not giving a fuck. He nearly groaned, far less pleasurably this time: "— and I've been yelling at you for it." 

His own sudden physical tension didn't seem to be communicating itself to Jarvis, who was now almost completely limp against him, his precise tones starting to slur. "When Miss Potts or Mister Hogan are available to keep watch… of course I…" 

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" Tony blurted out, appalled at the situation — and yeah, maybe at himself, a little. 

Jarvis turned his head very slightly, eyes closed, a nod toward "facing" his creator in spite of the fact that he was obviously too exhausted to do much more. "Sir… Tony… you left a standing order seven years, eight months and twenty-nine days ago that I was not to inform you of those occasions when I fulfilled a prescribed duty." 

Make that a _lot_ at himself. He hugged the drowsy body close with both arms, burying his face in the line of its neck, not sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. "Oh, Jarvis… oh, baby… new standing order: it's okay for you to sleep at night. I'll keep you right here with me, so you can see there's nothing wrong. If I need anything you'll be the first to know, but until then I want you to get your rest. Okay?"  

"Sir." His throat relaxed, his head sinking fully into the pillow with the faintest trace of a smile. "With pleasure, Sir." 

"Right." _Has he even been eating? Have I… oh hell, I've had my head down over JAMES, I haven't even…_ "Tomorrow I'll get JAMES up and running enough to take the security and research details, and then you and I are going to have a nice long talk about eating and sleeping and all that other good stuff." He waited for a response. "Jarvis?" 

And immediately realized that no answer was forthcoming, at least not tonight. Jarvis had taken his last order entirely to his new heart: he was out like a light, his breathing deep and even, his face utterly serene. _I am,_ that expression said, _exactly where I am supposed to be, exactly where I was designed to be and have always wanted to be. And it is good._  

And Tony, in all honesty, couldn't find a single thing inaccurate about that statement of location and appropriateness, even if there was now a flesh and blood form attached to the presence in question. He closed his eyes and let its proximity soothe the ache of separation he'd been feeling these past five days, and permitted himself to realize a simple truth: no power on Earth, or from realms far less explicable, could change the facts of origin, causation and connection. 

JARVIS was still with him. Was still _other._ Was still _his._   

And the rest of the world could go fuck itself, because Tony Stark was never alone — and never would be, not in any of the ways that mattered. 

THE END


End file.
